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“LIGHT HO, SIR! 



LIGHT HO, SIR!’ 


B V 

FRANK T. BULLEN 


Author of “ Cruise of the Cachalot ” 



NEW YORK 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
PUBLISHERS 


A? V 




THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Cones Received 

OCT. 26 1901 

Copyright entry 
/-/a C / 

CLASS a XXc. No. 

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copy a 


Copyright, 1901, 

By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company. 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Light Ho, Sir ! 7 

My Night Watch is Oyer 21 
























“ LIGHT HO, SIR!” 


Those people who are always striving to 
trace back to a man’s early training or surround- 
ings the real reason for any startling change in 
his life after he has long grown up, and do not 
believe in what the Bible calls the New Birth, 
must often be sorely puzzled. They seek for 
that which they wish to find, and often ignore 
any evidence which militates against their pre- 
conceived theories. Yet the majority of them 
would be horrified were they told that this 
method of research is dishonest and mislead- 
ing. 

But in spite of what people may feel about 
the matter, it is of no use blinking the fact that 
very much of the so-called scientific investiga- 
tion (which is not commercial) that is pursued 
to-day is tainted with this radical defect. 
Especially is this so in matters of inquiry into 
7 


8 


“ LIGHT HO , SIR ! 


religious experience. There are many exceed- 
ingly clever and well-educated persons who 
would have their readers believe that in all 
cases where a man or woman has become a 
Christian, and from serving the devil has turned 
and consistently served God, the change has 
been due to early impressions, which, acciden- 
tally encrusted over for a term, have been sud- 
denly revived in all their pristine force, and 
have compelled the mind back into the channels 
in which it was originally taught to move. 

Now, if this were all that these reasoners said, 
one might remind them, or inform them gently, 
that they were only partially right — that while 
it is undoubtedly blessedly true that early in- 
fluences for good do exert themselves most 
forcefully and unexpectedly in after years in a 
large number of cases, yet it is most untrue and 
God-dishonoring to suggest that Christianity is 
purely a matter of education, of environment, 
of a long acquaintance with religious persons 
and matters. So far from this being the case, 
it is a truism with Christian workers that very 
frequently their most hopeful converts have 


LIGHT IIO , SIR ! ” 


9 


been those who never heard the Gospel before, 
or at least had never listened to it with the 
slightest attention, even though they may have 
actually caught the tones of the preacher’s voice. 
To such simple ones the Water of the Word of 
Grace comes like the monsoon rains upon the 
burnt-up breadths of India, causing the appar- 
ently dead soil to put on at once a glorious gar- 
ment of living green, life-giving, life-sustaining, 
beautifying and blessing all around it. 

One of the most striking instances of this 
wonderful work of God in the soul that has ever 
come under my notice is that of a sailor who, 
strange as it may seem to-day, had never, until 
the time of which I speak, received the remotest 
idea of the relations of God to man, and had not 
the faintest conception of religion of any kind. 
Born in the squalid slums of a Lancashire town 
nearly sixty years ago, he became at a very early 
age a waif of the streets, losing all recollection 
of who were his parents, as they had forgotten 
all about him. It is hardly possible to conceive 
of a mind more perfectly desert than was John 
Wilson’s. Reading and writing were of course 


10 


LIGHT HO , SIR ! 


out of the question, and it is probable that any 
mental operations that went on in his dark mind 
were more nearly related to brute instincts than 
to any of the ordinary processes of human reason- 
ing. 

Now it is no part of my present plan, even if 
I had the necessary material, to trace Johnny’s 

career from the gutters of until he found 

himself in the position of boy on board a North 
Country collier brig, being then, as he supposed, 
about thirteen years of age. By some inherited 
tenacity of constitution he had survived those 
years of starvation, cold, and brutality, and was, 
upon going to sea, like a well-seasoned rattan, 
without an ounce of superfluous flesh upon him, 
and with a capacity for stolid endurance almost 
equalling a Seminole Indian. 

Of kindness he knew nothing, and had any 
one shown him any disinterested attention, he 
would have been as alarmed as are the birds in a 
London garden when a lover of them goes out 
to scatter crumbs. He would have suspected 
designs upon his liberty, or something worse. 
Of the treatment he endured on board those 


“ LIGHT HO , SIR ! ” 


11 


East Coast colliers I do not dare to speak at 
present. The recital would, I know, arouse an 
almost frantic feeling of resentment that such 
things should have been possible such a handful 
of years ago, and readers would forget that, by 
the blessing of God, men’s hearts to-day, even in 
the lowest strata of our society, have been mar- 
vellously softened towards children. He learned 
many things on board those ships, he told me, 
but, so far as he knew, not one that was good. 
Blasphemy, drunkenness, cruelty, debauchery — 
all these he became an adept in as he grew up, 
and besides he knew every conceivable trick by 
means of which he could shirk duty and shift it 
on to the shoulders of others. 

At last he reached the dignity of able sea- 
man, but I can bear witness that a less useful 
able seaman than he never darkened the door 
of a shipping office. And why? Because he 
had devoted all his low animal cunning to the 
avoidance of learning anything, lest he should 
be compelled to put it into practice, at the cost 
of some trouble to himself ; and what he was 
compelled to know he purposely practised as 


12 


“ LIGHT HO, SIR!” 


badly as possible, so that he should seldom be 
called upon to do it. Briefly, and in order to 
put the finishing touches to this unattractive 
picture, he was almost as perfect a specimen of 
unmoral animal as any course of training for the 
purpose of producing such an undesirable hu- 
man being could have resulted in. 

In this manner he passed the years of his life 
up to the age of thirty, drifting, like a derelict 
log, from ship to ship, and from shore to shore, 
all round the world. He was conversant with 
the interiors of most of the seaport jails in the 
world, for when under the influence of drink 
he was a madman, only to be restrained from 
doing deeds of violence by force, and utterly 
careless of the consequences of any of his ac- 
tions. At last, in the course of his wanderings, 
he came to Calcutta, and was enticed by a ship- 
mate up to the Sailors’ Rest in the Radha Bazaar 
one Sunday evening, when he had neither money 
nor credit wherewith to get drink. His ship- 
mate was a Christian of very brief experience, 
but he had the root of the matter in him, and 
knew that the next best thing to preaching the 


LIGHT HO , SIR /” 


13 


Gospel one’s self was to bring one’s friends in 
contact with some one who could. So it came 
about that Harry Carter, finding Johnny wan- 
dering about the bazaars aimlessly and hungrily, 
proposed a feed to him, and by that means got 
him into the Rest, where, after his hunger was 
appeased, Harry succeeded in keeping him until 
the evening meeting. 

At that time the meetings were conducted by 
two American missionaries to whom it was a 
perfect delight to listen, as they told in quaint 
language, loved and comprehended by sailors, 
the wonderful story of the coming of Jesus to 
save poor fallen man. Theirs was not preaching 
in a general way — every man in their presence 
felt that he was being individually conversed 
with, felt that the story of the Cross was a simple 
narration of absolute fact, no mere theory of mys- 
terious import, which only men and women who 
were specially selected and educated for the pur- 
pose could ever hope to understand. They told 
the wonderful tale in manly fashion, letting the 
God-given message just flow through them on 
its way from their Father to their brethren. 


14 


LIGHT HO , SIR ! 


And Johnny sat with eyes as tare and mouth 
agape, as the straight, brave, certain words sank 
into his awakening mind. Wonder, incredulity, 
shame — all struggled within him, all newly born, 
for it could hardly be said with truth that he 
had ever realized any of these emotions before. 

At last the speaker said : “ Oh, my dear boys, 
some of you here have never known what it is to 
have a friend, yet there has been a Friend by 
your side always, only begging you to be a friend 
of His. Some of you have never had a home, 
yet this Friend has been for nearly two thousand 
years preparing a home for you that is beyond 
all your hopes, beyond everything that you can 
imagine. Some of you have never in your lives 
had any real joy; this Friend has in His right 
hand for you pleasures for evermore, and in His 
presence there is fulness of joy. He can and 
will do for you exceeding abundantly above all 
that you ask or think. All these wonderful 
privileges may be yours for the taking ; you 
haven’t even to ask for them — only say that 
you will accept them.” 

Other sweet words followed, but Johnny 


“ LIGHT HO , SIB!” 


15 


hardly heard them. In his dark soul there was 
such a turmoil as he had never before known. 
New needs, new desires were struggling for ex- 
pression, and when the preacher dismissed his 
congregation with the earnest invitation for any 
to remain behind who felt they would like to 
know more about this wonderful gift, Johnny 
sat still in his place with wide, starting eyes 
following every movement of the preacher. 

At last that good man, passing from bench to 
bench, came to Johnny, and at once saw that 
here was no ordinary seeker after peace. Laying 
one arm tenderly across Johnny’s bowed shoul- 
ders, and with the other hand taking one of 
the seaman’s gnarled and knotted hands, the 
missionary said, 44 Brother, let Him have you. 
He wants you to be happy, He does want your 
love. Jesus, gentle Jesus, died for you that you 
might be happy with Him for all eternity.” 

With a vehemence that was startling Johnny 
turned and said, 46 Does He know me ? ” 

44 Yes, better than you do,” said the preacher. 
44 And He ’s got all these things for me ? I ’ll 
work all the rest o’ th’ voy’ge but what I ’ll have 


16 


LIGHT HO , Sill! 


this — I don’t care what it costs me, I ’ll have 
it. Yon see if I don’t. I know now it ’s what I 
been wantin’ all my life.” 

“ Gently, my dear brother,” said the preacher, 
“ you can’t buy it. He bought it with His blood 
to give it to you, and you can’t pay anything 
for it.” 

“ Why, I never had any think give me in my 
life,” said J ohnny. “ ’T ain’t right. Everythink ’s 
got ter be paid for, and I ’m going ter pay for 
this. I ’m no beggar, if I am a bit of a thief when 
I gets the chance.” 

Now, strange as it may seem, the hardest task 
that man of God had on that occasion was to 
convince this poor white savage that the gift of 
God was a gift. Gladly, joyfully, would he have 
sold himself into a long slavery to have purchased 
what he felt he must have, yet for a long time 
he would not, could not, believe that it was u with- 
out money and without price.” At last despair- 
ingly he said : “ Oh ! won’t He take a shillin’ 
for it ? I got one in my chest, a lucky shillin’ 
with a hole in it I ’ve had for years. Let me go 
aboard an’ get it.” 


“ LIGHT HO , SIR! 


17 


At last, with great difficulty, he was convinced 
that buying salvation was impossible, but im- 
pressed with the fact that he himself was from 
henceforth bought with a price, even the precious 
blood of the Son of God. And while the weary 
evangelist was still toiling to explain, the Lord 
took the matter in His own hands. And pres- 
ently a joyful shout burst from Johnny’s lips: 

“ Light ho, sir ! I sees it all. He ’s got me 9 
an’ He ’ll never let me go. Oh ! why did n’t I 
know of this afore ? ” 

He was a saved man. Let those argue who 
will, dispute who can, Johnny Wilson was a 
standing proof of the power of God to save 
the most ignorant, the most callous of the sons 
of men. From that day forward, without any 
more teaching, save what he could get from any 
one who would read the Gospels to him, he grew 
in grace. He was no more trouble aboard. His 
work was always done to the best of his ability, 
and you could safely trust him to work by him- 
self, for, as he said : “ My J esus is alonger me 
alwus.” 

Oh, but he was a real saint! Nothing could 


18 


LIGHT HO , SIR! 


move him. He used to be hated by everybody 
— now he became the spoiled child of the fo Vstle, 
at least in intent, for really he was unspoilable ; 
but all hands, no matter what they thought, con- 
spired to love Johnny. And when on the sub- 
sequent voyage he died of a blow received in 
falling from aloft, all hands gathered round his 
bunk, to hear from him the story that had trans- 
formed his life. He gushed it out with his latest 
breath : 

“ Jesus Christ, God’s Son, come down from 
heaven to look for me an’ make me happy. I 
was n’t worth a rope-yarn to anybody, but He 
come and found me, an’ made me so glad. An’ 
now I ’m a-goin’ ter see Him. Dear Jesus 
Christ, the friend of pore devils like me.” 


* 


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“MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER’’ 


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“MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.” 


A SAILOR’S CONVERSION. 

Sitting upon the capstan in the centre of the 
fo’c’s’le-head of a huge four-masted ship rush- 
ing swiftly along the wide, wild stretch of the 
Southern Ocean, bound to England round Cape 
Horn, a young able seaman in the prime of life 
was engaged in the unusual mental exercise 
for seamen of meditating upon God, His name 
does not matter; it must be sufficient to say 
that he was brought up in a respectable middle- 
class home in the north of England, one of a 
family of seven, — four boys and three girls. He 
had been christened at the parish church, at- 
tended Sunday school and family prayers with 
the utmost regularity, and had been confirmed 
at an early age. In spite of occasional out- 
breaks of wildness, he had won prizes for ex- 


22 


MY NIGHT WATCII IS OVER.' 


emplary conduct at Sunday-school, and had felt, 
with the mistaken idea of so many, when he re- 
ceived them, as if somebody were trying to 
bribe him to give up all the fun in life and 
become a strait-laced, long-visaged humbug. 
But he also felt, thank God ! that in his life 
there were two solid facts that could never be 
explained away, standing up like bastions of 
native rock in his life, — the love of his mother 
and the kindness of his father. 

All that he heard in church and Sunday- 
school was readily relegated by him to the cate- 
gory of things that ought to be done, even if 
you could n’t see the use of them ; but as to 
trying to understand them, well, that was the 
merest nonsense. Not that he ever put these 
thoughts and feelings into words, but they were 
none the less real to him. 

Then, suddenly, without any previous prep- 
aration discernible by him, a foreign element 
came into his life. Coming home from the 
village school one afternoon (he was then thir- 
teen years old), he met a bronzed, weather- 
beaten man who inquired of him the way to a 

L.efC. 


“MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER . 


23 


neighboring town ; and as that way for some 
little distance happened to be his own, they 
walked together. Within ten minutes the boy 
had imbibed from the wayfarer an intense de- 
sire to go a-roving. For the weather-beaten 
stranger was a sailor returning home after an 
absence of many years ; and the plain recital of 
his adventures, without any attempt to enhance 
their interest, fired the country boy’s blood to 
such an extent that his breath came in short 
gasps, and he gazed at the seamed and sunburnt 
face beside him as if he could see in it some 
reflection of the wondrous scenes through which 
it had passed apparently unheeding. They 
parted ; but the boy, his brain all in a ferment 
with wonder and desire, returned to his home 
as one that treads the clouds. And that night 
he waylaid his father, saying stammeringly : 
“ Dad, I want to go to sea.” 

Now the father, although a home-keeping man, 
had long faced the probability of losing his nest- 
lings as soon as they felt their wings growing, 
the more since he knew well that opportunities 
for their attaining any position worth consider- 


24 


“MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER: 


ing in the small town of their birth would almost 
certainly be wanting. Moreover, he had a severe 
struggle to keep them in comfort on his very 
small though constant earnings, and any lighten- 
ing of his burden, even though in the process 
his heart-strings were strained, was to be wel- 
comed. But as each child had been born to him 
he had commended it unreservedly to the care 
of his Heavenly Father, whose love to him had 
been the pivot of his own life ever since he was 
sixteen years old. And so it came about that, 
after a touching scene with his mother, the boy 
was helped to his desire, and by the most heroic 
efforts on the part of his father he found him- 
self, six months after giving utterance to his 
wish, a member of the apprentice portion of the 
crew of a huge four-masted ship, bound from 
Liverpool to San Francisco. 

His first month at sea was a revelation to the 
country-bred lad. In place of the home hedged 
in by love, into which the foulnesses so prevalent 
in great cities never penetrated, he found him- 
self met at every point by profanity and worse. 
In place of having all his bodily needs cared for, 


44 MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.” 25 


all the decencies of life made easy for him, he 
was left to his own ignorant devices, and all the 
dreadful consequences of being his own master 
in his own time descended upon him without 
warning. The captain was a careless, callous 
man, who only looked upon the apprentices as 
an inefficient supplement to a scanty crew. And 
while he worked them mercilessly in conse- 
quence, he found it no part of his duty to look 
after the welfare of either their bodies or their 
souls. 

Under this treatment the boy soon became a 
finished young blackguard in thought, and so 
soon as the opportunity arrived to put the evil 
theories he had so readily absorbed into practice, 
he flung himself into all forms of evil within his 
reach with a recklessness and zest that were hor- 
rible to contemplate. Finally, he ran away from 
his ship in company with an older apprentice, 
breaking his indentures, and cutting off definitely 
the last hold his home had upon him. 

A wild time of sin, suffering, and sorrow fol- 
lowed. Yes, sorrow; although, in the same 
Spartan fashion practised by so many thousands 


26 


“MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER. 


of wanderers like himself, he concealed it under 
an assumption of utter indifference, utter god- 
lessness. At last, when in the throes of a pro- 
longed debauch he was staggering along one of 
the lowest streets in Callao, he was seized by a 
gang of predatory ruffians, beaten out of what 
little sense he had left, and conveyed on board an 
American ship bound thence to England. This 
is the process called by seamen “ Shanghai-ing.” 

It would be impossible to convey to people 
living sheltered lives on shore how terrible 
were the physical sufferings of the poor lad 
now, bruised from head to heel, shaking from 
illness brought on by his excesses, yet compelled 
to toil in superhuman fashion under pain of 
being savagely beaten again. But he felt no 
repentance, he only cursed his “ luck,” and 
dumbly endured, as seamen do. Then one 
night, during the keeping of his lookout, one 
of his watchmates whom he had hitherto de- 
spised as a mild, say-nothing-to-nobody sort of 
a duffer, came quietly up on to the forecastle 
head, and, standing near him, gazed steadfastly 
out upon the loneliness of the midnight ocean, 


MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER. 


27 


for some time saying not a word. The full 
moon had just emerged from a dense black 
cloud, driving before her, apparently, the dark- 
ness that had so recently reigned, and paling 
the lustrous stars with her glorious radiance, 
while every tiny wavelet rippling the peaceful 
sea became instantly edged with molten silver. 
And the influence of the hour, amid all the 
eternal immensity of the environment, made 
for breathless awe, silent involuntary worship 
of the unseen yet palpably present God. 

Suddenly the new-comer spoke quietly, yet 
with a certain force, as if unable to hold his 
peace any longer. “ Jemmy, lad, don’t ye feel 
as if we was a-sailing inter the very presence of 
Almighty God — as if He wanted t’ show men 
’at won’t think, how glorious He is, an’ how 
great is His peace?” 

There was no reply, but as the speaker paused 
to look for the effect of his words, he saw 
glittering in the moon-ray two big drops steal- 
ing down Jemmy’s sorrow-seamed young face. 

Immediately the Christian, following his 
Master’s example, took a quick stride to the 


28 


MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER. 


youth, and laying his hand upon the trembling 
shoulder, said softly: “Dear boy, let ’em run. 
They ’re a sign that your heart ain’t got too 
hard yet to feel the sweet influence that God 
puts out to win His wandering ones back. But 
if there ’s anything I can do to help you, do let 
me, won’t you? ” 

He came nearer as he spoke, until his arm 
was round Jemmy’s neck. And then he waited 
patiently until the broken words came : “ I — I 
— feel so miserable. I ’ye forgotten my mother 
and father, my home and my God. But p’raps 
I never knew Him.” 

“ No, dear boy, I don’t suppose you ever did ; 
but now is your time to know Him. He ’s been 
waiting for your proud heart to bend down and 
own that it wants Him — can’t do without 
Him. Oh, Jemmy, how He loves you ! Your 
mother and father love you, and are heart- 
broken over you, no doubt, but He, your Father 
God, loves you from everlasting to everlasting, 
and spared not His own Son, that you might be 
made welcome to His peace, that you might 
know how happy a child of God can be who 


“ MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.” 


29 


has found out from God Himself liow much He 
is longed and waited for.” 

The speaker paused for breath, for his ener- 
getic outburst had so carried him away that 
he was like a man who had been running a 
race, and as he did so Jemmy said shyly, and in 
alow voice: “How did you know that I was 
wishing with all my heart that in some way, 
somehow, I might get my soul put right, that I 
was longin’ for a message from God, without 
any idea how it was to come ? ” 

There was a happy ring in the Christian’s 
voice as he answered : “ Me know ? I don’t know 
anything, except that God the Father is my 
Father, that God the Son is my Saviour, who 
died that I might live, and that God the Holy 
Ghost, whose work it is to impress these wonder- 
ful matters on men’s hearts, is always at hand 
arranging the time, the messenger, and the mes- 
sage. He found me as He finds you — hopeless, 
heart-sick, hungry for peace and love ; and as 
soon as He made me feel my need of Him He 
had some one there to tell me the glad story.” 

Then and there J emmy slid down to his knees, 


30 


MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.' 


and lifting his streaming face to heaven he mur- 
mured, “ O God my Father, forgive me my sins, 
and make me what I ought to be. Dear J esus, 
put your own precious life into me and drive the 
unclean life out. I do believe in you, my 
Saviour, because you compel me to by your 
love. Teach me your way — I ’ll make it mine. 
Bless my poor father and mother at home, and 
let me get back and comfort them ; and bless this 
dear brother here who you ’ve made use of to 
tell me, for Christ’s sake. An^en.” 

Deep and solemn was the response from his 
new-found friend kneeling beside him. As they 
rose from their knees Jemmy reached for his hand, 
and clasping it in both of his own, said brokenly, 
“ How real and true all comes back to me now, 
what I heard when I was a little chap at home 
and at Sunday-school ! How can I ever thank 
God enough for sending you to me ? But how 
silly I must have been not to see it before ! 
Oh, thank God, thank God I see it now ! God 
my Father waiting for me, Christ my Saviour 
knocking at my heart, and the Comforter send- 
ing you into this place, on to this fo’c’s’le-head 


MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.” 


31 


at the right minute to give me the right 
word.” 

“ Eight bells ” rang out clearly from the tiny 
bell aft, and as Jemmy hastened to strike the 
big bell responsively he murmured : “ Thank 
God my night watch is over — the morning has 
come.” 

Thenceforward he and his brother in the Lord 
were inseparable, whenever it was possible for 
them to enjoy the communion they both needed. 
Their heavy tasks on board remained really the 
same, but they did not feel them. They worked 
cheerfully as unto God, upheld by His wonder- 
ful sustaining power, and everything around 
and about them seemed changed for the better. 

So it is when, after long buffeting the gale that 
is blowing fair for home, because the captain is 
uncertain of his position and dares not run be- 
fore it, the pilot comes on board, orders the helm 
to be put up, and the good ship fleeing home- 
ward with a fair wind seems to have suddenly 
sprung into fine weather. Jesus, the Heavenly 
Pilot, comes on board of a man and takes charge, 
bringing light for darkness, joy for misery, and, 


32 


MY NIGHT WATCH IS OVER.” 


embracing all these, the peace of God which 
passeth all understanding. 

Night after night found Jemmy as we found 
him at the beginning of this story, day after day 
saw him sturdily and more deeply digging into 
the treasure of the Word, until that blessed day 
when with his beloved chum at his side he burst 
into the old home, to receive that welcome that 
only a loving mother and father can give to a 
son restored to them by God’s mercy in answer 
to many prayers. 


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OCT 26 1901 




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